Moonstone Legynds: The Begining
by Original Dinner Plate
Summary: Moonstone's life was never easy and it's about to get a lot more complicated when a mysterious wizard with unclear motives appears to take guardianship of her wayward self. It'll get even more complicated when she encounters a stranger who seems to be far too familiar to her to be coincidence. Will his secret come to light? Can Moonstone handle the truth?
1. Chapter 1

Moonstone Dryelae was born on a dark cold night and left on the steps of St. Dungo's Ward for Lost and Unwanted Magical Children, thus leaving her to the fates of the world alone and unloved.

She was named for the mysterious moonstone pendant that hung on a thick silver chain around her neck and seemed unbreakable, as the staff had been unable to take it off of her, by hand or wand, and realized that it must have been heavily charmed and so they let it remain. It seemed to cause her no great harm, anyway, aside from a slight choking hazard. They were not the only ones to notice Moonstone, however, as another wizard appeared shortly after she'd been left alone in her bassinet.

That wizard was Blake Riddle who was afraid that Moonstone might be a potential minion and spy for The Dark Lord as he had seen it in his viewing crystal. With little hesitation he obliviated her of her true magical identity, hoping that would suffice and that the threat would be averted but he carelessly did not take into account the damage it could do to her young mind. Thankfully her sanity was intact, but her mind had been left with crude language capabilities. This act also unfortunately did not stop her from being very different from the other children and was still considered odd even by wizarding standards.

Moonstone had brown hair with some glowing white strands that shone like silver when caught in the sun (whenever it decided to shine on St. Dungo's, which was actually not very often.) Her eyes were also different colors; one being brown and the other a greenish-silver that frightened whomever stared into it for too long, thus making it very hard for Moonstone to make friends.

She was also given the second name 'Dryelae' for the oddly shaped birthmark under her wrist that was grey in color and resembled the almost extinct magical species by that same name. Dryelae were not known for anything positive in the magic world, much to Moonstone's shame, as it was considered an ill omen for bad weather and unpaid debts.

This made one Madame Deuxapue, head of Moonstone's ward, a bane to her young life amongst the many others in the place she lived in but dared not call home.

"Oh, look it's Moonstone! More like MoonSTONED because she's always smoking gillyweed behind the kitchen!" shouted one boy with red hair that stood up like flames atop his narrow head.

"Shut the fuck up, you ginger scum!" replied Moonstone scathingly, whipping her head to look at him while hair turned wildly with her but seemingly defying gravity as it floated in the air for far too long to be considered natural. The other children stopped to watch with fascination and fear but Moonstone did not have time to deal with such things and left to go sit in her bed and thinking about the moon as she often did. Alone. She heard the children snicker as she made her retreat and vowed to punish them soon while still fighting to contain the raging forces within her.

Blake Riddle had been looking into his viewing crystal as he had for many years to watch over Moonstone, making sure that she and others around her were safe. He was afraid that that one ginger child might unlock Moonstone's dark nature as he had been taunting her for quite sometime and was generally unpleasant. So, he apparated discreetly again to St. Dungo's and took away the ginger haired lad who was never to be heard from again, but it was very curious because the Minister of Magic, Sir Gersh Borfwhurt received a new red toupee that very day.

Moonstone became afraid that she had done something to cause that boy's disappearance when several days had passed with no word from him and putting the whole place in a worried frenzy.

She hadn't meant to call him 'ginger scum' but it was the only thing she could think of at the time and in her heart she actually held no animosity towards redheads. She looked out the window on a rainy day while thinking of what had happened recently when she saw the form of person she did not recognize mulling about the playground very suspiciously. Initially she thought it to be a pervert as they sometimes encountered them in the playground but on looking closer she noticed that the man carried a briefcase with the name 'Blake Riddle' in gold lettering and thought surely a pervert would not carry something around with their own name so boldly displayed.

Unless, however, it was not their real name and it was all part of a ruse to lure in trusting orphans. It had not even been two summers ago when several orphans disappeared and were never heard from again, leaving behind only their shoelaces tied to ice-lolly sticks. The media called it the 'Ice-Lolly Kidnappings' and great fear had swept over the wizarding world, but it died down shortly after when a newer more interesting story regarding the minister's affair with a pop star came to light.

Blake noticed Moonstone staring at him all the time when he appeared at St. Dungo's to keep an eye on things but this time something in the way she looked at him made him misinterpreted this as a cry for help as life at the orphanage had become too hard and would surely set off Moonstone, thus awakening her dark power.

He immediately scheduled a visit with the president of St. Dungo's, Madam Fryla Sun. He informed her that he very much wanted to adopt Moonstone Dryelae. Madam Sun was very skeptical, as who would ever want such a strange girl, but soon became overjoyed as no one had ever taken an interest in adopting Moonstone since she had brought nothing but trouble with her.

She immediately began drafting up the proper paperwork that would officially make Blake Riddle the guardian of Moonstone.

When Madame Fryla Sun approached Moonstone with this news she took it like a shock of cold water being thrown on her. The color drained from her already pale face and her greenish-silver eye began to flicker darkly.

"Who the fuck is this Blake Riddle?" Moonstone asked.

"Language, young lady!"

"Sorry, Madame Sun. I mean who is that?"

"You are very lucky, Ms. Dryelae. Blake Riddle is a respected wizard in the community and you should count your blessings that he chose to take you in regardless of your...unnatural condition."

"Hold on a tic!" belched Madame Deuxapue who had just entered the office.

"Why she gettin' adopted? We got lots better children to give then this here trollop! She good fer' only mopping latrines, she is!"

Moonstone glared sharpened blades at Madame Deuxapue and internally cursed her and took note that before she left she had to remember to leave her a little 'surprise' in her chambers involving the groundskeeper's desiccated cat mummy and biter worm turds which were known to cause severe rashes when coming in contact with skin.

"I tried to reason with him, but he'd have no one else but Moonstone. Clearly he must have some better use for her than we do," said Madame Sun, looking down at Moonstone with disdain.

"FUCK BOTH OF YOU! I'M BETTER THAN YOU AND THIS PLACE! FUCK OFF!" Moonstone shouted as she rose from her chair and causing it to fall back.

Madame Sun and Deuxapue started anxiously and clutched their wands tightly by their sides when a knock came to the door.

"How dare you, you awful wretch! That could be Mr. Riddle now!"

"FUCK YOUR MOTHERS WITH RUSTED METAL!"

Blake didn't bother to wait for the door to be answered. He threw it open and stormed into the room, frowning at the fuming hens. "Ladies, please," he interjected, "I am ready to just take Moonstone so that we can begin our new life together. If you can't accept that, I'm afraid I will have to take extreme measures."

"This here chit is no longer up for adoption!" Madame Deuxapue cried as she gave Moonstone a fish-and-chips fist punch to the mouth, knocking her to the floor and drawing blood from Moonstone's lips.

"She is going to scrub the loo where we send the children with loose bowels as well as all of my soiled sheets for weeks! She is like a benign buttocks tumor; not even her fat, ailing grandmother would pay her mind! She would just continue to plump down on her fat arse!" Madame Deuxpue rambled heatedly while shaking a finger at them, beads of sweat dripping down her brow from having done such strenuous activity by striking Moonstone.

"I was afraid you would say that," Blake sighed. And with a quick motion, he whipped out his wand and waved it furiously while muttering almost silent incantations Moonstone had never heard before.

Both Madame Sun and Madame Deuxapue launched headfirst out of the nearby picture window, free-falling over twenty floors down to the ground on feathered cushions coated with memory absorption powder so as not to kill them and to erase their memories of what had transpired.

Moonstone was free.

"Okay, it is time to apparate, we are leaving now," Blake told Moonstone curtly.

Moonstone looked at Blake anxiously and wondered what sort of strange turn her life would take next. His hair shone like wax and appeared to be dangerously spiky, almost like the quills of a porcupine. His skin was tan and he rose a whole foot taller than her and she had never considered herself to be short.

He held his wand stoically and Moonstone found herself admiring its abnormal length at 17" which was probably the longest wand she'd ever seen.

"Where are we going?" asked Moonstone skeptically.

"No time to discuss, grab onto my cloak!"

"No. Tell me first otherwise I'm not going with you," said Moonstone seriously. She needed to show she wasn't just any simpleminded Dungo's orphan.

"We're going to my home, you rebellious child! Now take hold or else I'll stun you!"

Moonstone relented and reached out to grab the sleeve of his long cloak. She'd never done an apparation before and found that she was quite nervous as suddenly many memories of all the horror stories she'd heard about squinching flooded her. Damn all the Dungo's orphans and their tall tales.

"FUCK THIS PLACE!" Moonstone shouted and they both vanished from the office with a loud pop.


	2. Chapter 2

Moonstone arrived in Blake's flat and was disappointed with what she saw. The room was barren except for two wooden chairs covered in cobwebs under a window with no blinds or curtains.  
"What the fuck is this? You expect me to live like this?" asked Moonstone.  
Blake had had enough of Moonstone's display of insolence, despite everything he had done for her. He took his wand and whacked her across the cheek with it, leaving a red blotch and a slight scratch.

"Shut the fuck up, or I'm going to put you in a broom cupboard under the stairs. I hear that does wonders for ungrateful orphans," he snapped at her.

He waved his wand and a staircase appeared, almost as if it had been there all along, just unnoticed. He took Moonstone up the stairs and suddenly they were in a huge mansion. The mansion was brightly lit by the natural light pouring through all of the windows. The mansion had a lot of expensive stuff in it and it also had more than one hundred rooms.

"You look like a hobo," a house elf told Moonstone. The house elf was dressed in a designer suit, but he was still a house elf because Blake didn't give him clothes, just money to get clothes, because he hated tea cozies.

"This is my house elf, Jerome," Blake told Moonstone. "Now go get cleaned up, we're going to the store."

"What if I don't fucking want to, you little prick?" Moonstone challenged Blake, her hand still covering the mark on her cheek which stung, though it wasn't as bad as the whippings she'd gotten at St. Dungo's.

Blake ignored Moonstone completely and promptly went to his own personal bar to make himself a fizzy nightshade cocktail laced with Veela's sweat and seemed completely oblivious to the intense glare Moonstone directed at his back.

Jerome the house elf cleared his throat squeakily and pulled Moonstone along who reluctantly obliged, leading her through a door and into a hallway lined with moving paintings of wizards and witches seemingly caught in compromising positions, several of which screamed in fright at hers and Jerome's presence.

"What a fucking pervert!" thought Moonstone, though she had actually said this out loud and hadn't realized. Jerome cleared his throat again in the same squeaky manner and looked back at her, "Master Blake is a fine art collector," he said simply and Moonstone waited for him to elaborate further but he did not, instead he stopped in front of a soggy looking door with a charred doorknob and opened it while motioning Moonstone to enter and so she did.

"This is to be your room, Mistress," he said haughtily as if Moonstone was wasting his time.

"FUCK YOU!" Moonstone screamed at the elf, though he seemed to be unaffected by her outburst.

As heinous as the door appeared to be, the room was actually quite decent, or at least more so than any quarters she'd ever had. There was a small dresser and a bed that had an open trunk in front of it. Moonstone looked closer and saw that there was a dress laid out on top of the the bed still on its hanger. It was long and black and had a horrid fluffy white collar, however it was still nicer than her St. Dungo's uniform which was sickly grey, deeply stained and had little holes where moths had eaten it. It was even probably older than herself as orphans only got hand-me-downs from other orphans, some being long dead and forgotten.

Moonstone turned to tell Jerome to fuck off as she wasn't about to undress in front of a pervert fucking elf but he had already disappeared.

Moonstone quickly changed, throwing the old uniform into a heap on the floor and decided to find her way back to the main room where Blake was waiting.

Blake continued to wait for Moonstone as he looked out at a window at the beautiful English countryside. He wouldn't have been surprised if she ended up getting lost.

"That girl needs help," Jerome said from behind Blake. Blake jumped with a startle; he had not heard Jerome creep up behind him. "Her skin is so pasty, we need to go get her some good cosmetics at M.A.C."

Blake stared at Jerome. "What the fuck is a M.A.C.?" he asked Jerome. Blake walked away before Jerome could even answer.

He picked up a large pot and took off the top. It was full of a grey powdery grain, a grain which had a slight iridescent tint to it. Floo powder. He grabbed just a bit and laid it out on the table. He flicked his wand gently and the powder rearranged into a thin, perfect line. Then, with a quick gesture, Blake put one of his nostrils to the table while putting a finger over the other. With great precision and skill, he snorted the line of floo powder. He felt the high almost instantly. And damn, did it feel good. He even fell down and knocked over the glass display case that contained the locket of Slytherin and the diadem of Ravenclaw. It shattered with a ring, and Jerome quickly shuffled in to clean it up.

Blake stood back up, belting a loud "WOOOHOOOOO!" He then quickly remembered that he was waiting for Moonstone to come down.

"YOU BETTER HURRY THE FUCK UP OR I AM NOT GOING TO FUCKING BUY YOU AN OWL!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, accidentally kicking Jerome in the ankle.

"I'm here for fuck's sake!" Moonstone replied tartly as she entered the main living area. Jerome was rubbing a spot on his stubby ankle with an annoyed expression on his face and his bulbous eyes seemed to narrow as he turned to look at her, through he quickly recovered and returned his expression and demeanor into a calm one. Moonstone also noticed the strange artifacts he held but said nothing.

"Okay, very good, very good," said Blake, who was clumsily swatting the table clean before rubbing the remnants on his gums compulsively with his fingers.

"THAT'S FUCKING FRESH!" Blake blurted out loudly and suddenly, almost startling Moonstone, but then calmed down as quickly as Jerome had and straightened his posture, looking ready to take on all of Great Britain and proclaim, "WHAT UP I GOT A BIG COCK!" which he actually did say much to Jerome's mortification.

"What the fuck," whispered Moonstone and hoped Blake wasn't into some sort of shady dealings that would end her being sold as a sex slave to affluent wizards like the Malfoy's or something. You had to watch out for those old-money smelling pureblood families as they were always the ones into kinky shit and high grade wizard drugs. Moonstone may not have ever left the orphanage but she had keen ears, that was for sure and was pretty aware of the local wizarding and muggle politics.

"What did you say to me?" hounded Blake.

"Nothing, I'm ready to go now," replied Moonstone meekly.

Blake took Moonstone by the arm and apparated again with a quick 'pop'. They appeared inside the lobby of Gringotts, which was as well-lit as ever with its many chandeliers and floating, spherical lanterns.

He quickly moved over to the nearest goblin teller, who was perched on a stool high above Blake and Moonstone, a long solid oak counter separating him from the customers.

"What can I help you with?" the goblin asked.

"I'M GONNA WITHDRAW SOME FUCKING COIN," Blake told the goblin, handing him a small, tarnished brass key.

The goblin did not spare Blake a concerned look as he escorted him and Moonstone behind the counter to load into a cart. As the cart took off, Blake began screaming at the top of his lungs. Due to the effects of the floo powder high, the somewhat bumpy ride seemed like the world's most thrilling roller coaster. At one point, he became so scared that he attempted to jump out of the cart. Luckily, the goblin placed Blake in a Full Body-Bind Curse for his own protection until they finally arrived at the vault.

After a few brief moments, the goblin unlocked the vault that belonged to Blake. Inside the vault was a lot of treasure, artifacts, and gold. Blake began shoveling gold into his pockets by the fistfuls. When he had run out of room, he dragged Moonstone over and began to stuff her pockets with gold, too.

"What the fuck is all this fucking gold for?" asked Moonstone, figuring that they had pocketed at least 1,000 galleons already.

"Shut up. You look like a boggart's worst nightmare, and no orphan of mine will STAY looking that way," Blake chastised her. Pockets stuffed, Blake managed to wobble back to the cart, where the goblin was waiting.

After Moonstone had retrieved some sweet coinage with Blake who also privately pocketed some strange blocks wrapped in paper from Gringott's, they decided to make their way to the wand shop. Moonstone had not had a wand in the orphanage, having to rely on her own wandless magic to get things done, so she was eagerly awaiting meeting the famous wandmaker. On her way there she checked out many wizards and witches that passed by them, watching with horror and fascination as Blake skillfully picked their pockets, seemingly for his own amusement.  
"What the fuck are you doing?" Moonstone asked Blake after they had passed his victims and were out of earshot.  
"I was collecting a debt!"  
"They owe you?"  
"No, but life does " said Blake, a single tear trailing down his cheek and into his lapels before it evaporated into a pink fizzle due to the anti-tears protection spell he placed on all of his clothing.  
Moonstone shook her head, deciding to ignore Blake for the time being as they reached Olivander's. When they entered they found it to be empty until Moonstone passed over the ledge and Mr. Olivander seemed to appear out of nowhere from behind a shelf. He regarded Moonstone thoughtfully at first but then his expression changed as he became aware of Blake presence. He bared his teeth and hissed at Blake who merely looked bored with the whole encounter. "WE NEED A WAND," shouted Blake.  
"I'm not deaf, you know," mumbled Mr. Olivander.  
"Oh, sorry, just assumed since YOU'RE FUCKING ANCIENT."  
"Omg, Blake, shut the fuck up," whispered Moonstone, elbowing Blake in the ribs.  
"Don't tell me to shut the fuck up you ungrateful urchin!"  
"Ah Moonstone, I wondered when I'd be seeing you..." said Mr Olivander mysteriously.  
"Wat," said Moonstone simply.

Mr. Ollivander realized that both of these patrons were dim, so with a slight sigh, he decided to get straight to business.

Reaching up on a shelf, he pulled down a slender box and removed a wand from within it.

"Elm, 14.5 inches, unicorn hair." His recitation came with great ease as he handed the wand to Moonstone.

Moonstone carelessly prodded Blake in the side with it, causing him to jump.

"GODDAMNIT, OW!" Blake screamed, smacking the wand out of Moonstone's hand. Mr. Ollivander noticeably grimaced at this action.

Moonstone scowled at Blake and bent over to pick up the dropped wand. Mr. Ollivander watched as Moonstone gripped it firmly, admiring it. She could feel the sheer, raw power of the tool coursing through her as she held it. It was unlike anything she had ever beheld. Slowly, carefully, surely, she gave the wand an elaborate wave. The wand began to glow at the tip, almost beautifully. Before Blake could smile with approval, the tip began to spew an acid-colored smoke and promptly emitted a shock that traveled up the length of Moonstone's arm, causing a great dulling pain.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Moonstone screamed, throwing the wand across the shop with all of the force she could muster. The wand clattered to the floor, but not before knocking down a glass container holding some kind of varnish, causing it to shatter and spill all over the floor.

Moonstone was beyond furious. "I FUCKING HATE THIS PLACE!"

"Very well, very well," Mr. Ollivander muttered to himself nervously, hobbling over to the spilled varnish and scorgifying it with precision before reaching for another box, much longer and this one more dusty and frayed at the edges. He opened it and handed the wand over to Moonstone, speaking as he did so, "Pine, 25.5 inches with a moon dust core."

Moonstone clutched it skillfully, marveling at how light and agile it felt despite its seemingly cumbersome length. The handle was marked with decorative ridges that Moonstone took delight in caressing, reminding her of the hard sponge cake she pilfered from the other orphans as a small child.

She took a deep breath before waving it carefully, away from anyone or any artifacts in close proximity. It felt pleasantly warm and her fingertips tingled, causing goosebumps of excitement to emerge down her neck as she watched a silvery shimmer of glowing, effervescent light shoot out, sparkling and whizzing across the shop before forming into a circular moon-shape and dissipating, leaving the previously dank air with a fresh, sweet pea scent.

"I see," said Mr. Ollivander gravely.

"What do you see?" asked Moonstone.

"Your name is Moonstone and it is the wand, the only one in existence, to have a moon dust core. I do not think this is a coincide, no, most definitely not."

"Well, why is it the only one?"

"There was a wizard with great ambition who wished to cure lycanthrophy by extracting the magical properties from moon dust, however in order to obtain a sample he had to go through very...tedious...measures...ones that resulted in him having to have all his toes amputated. He was left dejected, a laughing stock of the wizarding community, but because he had retrieved a small sample he was able to perform experiments on it," said Mr Ollivander, taking a seat before continuing, "Unfortunately, however, these experiments all failed and resulted in creating more werewolves and worsening the condition of those already afflicted."

Blake yawned loudly, putting his elbows on the table and looking to Mr. Ollivander with a dull expression.

"Is this going anywhere?" asked Blake rudely, but Mr, Ollivander ignored him.

"So, after all this hardship he decided to abandon his quest and invested his knowledge in wandlore instead, crafting this wand and using the remnants of the moon dust. He died shortly after, suffering from gout and dragon's teat boils contracted from unsafe dragon milking practices, but not before speaking of a prophesy where the heir to the moon goddess and werewolf fortune would claim this wand, leaving a mark on the wizarding world and the hearts of werewolves forever."

"Oh," said Moonstone, feeling unable to digest this news. She looked to Blake curiously, wondering what to do next.

"CAN WE JUST PAY FOR THE WAND? WE HAVE PLACES TO BE AND PEOPLE TO SEE. I HAVE A LUNCH APPOINTMENT TO KEEP," Blake went off impatiently, grabbing his coin purse out of an inside pocket of his robe and beginning to pilfer through it. "Now how much do wands cost these days? 130 galleons? 250 galleons?"

"Um, this one will be 12 galleons, 3 sickles, sir," Ollivander mumbled uncomfortably, shifting in his place.

Blake cringed. "Sickles? I don't carry sickles!" He grabbed a handful of galleons out of his coin purse and placed them on the counter.

"Keep the change, keep the change," Blake turned toward the shop door, waving his hand dismissively at Mr. Ollivander.

Moonstone followed Blake quickly out the door, back into the sunshine of Diagon Alley. After her eyes adjusted to the light, she spotted a beautiful broom on display in the window of a store called Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Can we go-"

"Later!" Blake snapped, taking off quickly down Diagon Alley, "I KNOW you heard me mention my lunch appointment! I am meeting Eustacia, Parthena, and Patton for lunch! I simply can't miss that - they have new information on where Buford disappeared to! He has been missing since he drank that Linwood bark-infused tonic! And then after that, we must stop at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions! I recently had to take back my new, gorgeous midnight blue robes when it dawned on me that the insufferable gorgon had NOT hand-stitched the accents on the robe as I clearly ordered! And we CAN'T leave today without stopping into Flourish and Blotts and seeing if Octavius has been fired or otherwise punished for his recent under-the-counter dealings of shady curse books."

Blake glanced to one side and then the other, only to realize that Moonstone was no longer in tow. It took him a few moments of scanning the crowds to spot her. She was still several paces back. She was staring at a tall boy who didn't look like he wanted to be toyed with.

"FIGHT ME, PUNKASS TROLLOP," Moonstone yelled at him, her wand pointed at his throat. "I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER YOU FUCKING PIXIE."

Blake considered going and fetching her but then thought better of it, realizing his desire to be entertained was much greater than anything else.

"My name is Aspertame Juxtapoise, you don't want to mess with me. I am skilled in over 150 wizard dueling styles, 57 muggle techniques from various traditions and I have yet to lose a battle. Are you prepared for the storm that is coming your way?"

"Bring it on, you maladjusted cretin!"

Suddenly there was a snapping of wrists, a whooshing of wands, a clapping of thighs and it was so that the battle had commenced.

Onlookers scattered, fearful of being caught in the crossfire as various spells ricocheted off each other and destroyed the ancient bricks of Diagon Alley. A tawny, mop-headed child was struck with a blasted bit of stone on his cheek, forever scarred from that day on. He would grow to tell his fourty-seven grandchildren of the great duel he witnessed that day, always pointing to the faded jagged scar he bore.

"JUDASHEMBIAS!" Moonstone shouted, smacking her opponent in the face with her 25.5 inch wand. Aspertame recoiled and found that his body and face begun to erupt in horrendous boils that exploded with oozing black tar and that echoed the name '...Gaga...' seductively.

"ARGGHHHHH! ROGASTWINIAS!" Aspertame ejaculated violently, throwing his whole arm into throwing the spell at Moonstone.

She almost expertly dodged the spell but was struck with it anyway. She begun to grow fur and big puppy-like ears which leaked with red hot sauce into her eyes.

Moonstone wailed, now a fur and hot sauce covered woman who knocked into street poles before falling in a mud puddle. Blake groaned at this pathetic display of dueling on Moonstone's part, however it wasn't really her fault since she had never dueled anyone before.

Moonstone prevailed, however, rising from the muck and casting a very powerful hex that no wizard had ever seen before since the year 1492.

"HEMOROIDIAS DIARRHEAS!"

Aspertame was knocked senseless within moments, his entire body turned to lumpy orange and green foam. His lips moved slowly in defeat and it was then that a spherical ball emerged from his bubbling mess of a body. Moonstone picked it up, admiring it's two-tone color and pressed the button in the center. Suddenly there was a flash of light, a distinct 'tng' sound and a creature had appeared. She gasped when she looked upon it, recognizing it to be a North American albino raccoon.

It spoke to her, "Hello Moonstone. You have defeated my previous master who was a tyrant and who fed me low-quality, expired tins of fancy feast. I will now be your pet since you are the victor of this duel, as magical law dictates the transferring of ownership. Please feed me higher quality cat food and I will be the best pet raccoon ever."

The raccoon fell silent, seemingly going back to being a normal raccoon who begun to play patty cake in his previous master's foamy body with tiny little raccoon hands.

"What the fuck" said Blake.


End file.
